Memories and Quills
by Harriet Telcontar Holmes
Summary: Snape's thoughts as he makes a disturbing discovery about a certain Denfense teacher's idea of punishment and the consequences. OotP
1. Memories and Quills

A/N: My second story, this time about Snape and Occlumency because I could never quite get my head around the fact that he never picked up on Umbridge's detentions during the lessons. The whole thing went a little further than I had originally planned. Once again, please note that English is not my first language, though I do my best to avoid mistakes.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or places mentioned. They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling and so does anything else you may recognize.

A/N: Here the story with the last few lines. So sorry about that (hides)

**Memories and Quills**

It was hopeless, completely and utterly hopeless. Well, of course it was; how could he, Severus Snape, ever have expected anything else from that arrogant swine James Potter's spawn? That boy truly was a carbon copy of his father, no matter what Albus tried to tell him each time they discussed the brat.

"He has Lily's eyes, Severus, and you know what they say, 'The eyes are the windows to the soul.'"

What utter nonsense! The boy had never shown any interest in his studies, least of all in Potions, as Lily always had, he relished his fame and flaunted that scar of his the same way his father would have done. Was this the person for whom his beloved Lily had given her life? A brat who failed to appreciate everything she had sacrificed so he might live and instead risked his life every year without a thought to the consequences?

And now Severus, of all people, was supposed to teach this epitome of Gryffindor, a House which – with the exception of Lily – he had always despised, the subtle art of Occlumency. What was Albus thinking?

At the moment Potter was lying on the floor of the dark and gloomy office after Severus's most recent – and failed - attempt at getting him to defend his mind against intrusion.

"Again, Potter. Get off my floor; it has done nothing to deserve the no doubt excruciating torture of having you on top of it."

Ah, there it was; the look which he most hated seeing on Potter's face. This look of defiance showed a complete mixture of the whelp's hateful father… and his mother. His emerald eyes were glittering just like hers had done in moments like this, but the expression on his face was one that had only ever been seen on a Potter and one that should never have been seen in combination with any feature of Lily Evans's –Severus still could not bring himself to call her Potter, even in the privacy of his own mind.

He looked away quickly, the memory proving too painful for him. Every time he saw this look on Potter's face – and he had seen it often, oh yes – he wondered what could have been, if he had not lost control of his tongue and called Lily by that hateful name. Would her eyes be looking out at him from a younger copy of his own face, rather than that of his enemy?

'No use,' he thought, cursing himself for even thinking along those lines, as he did every time it happened.

He once again focused his attention on the boy who, by now, was on his feet again, looking as insolent as ever, in spite of his most recent failure at trying to push his most hated professor out of his mind.

"Pathetic, Potter. If I didn't know how little talent you have shown over the years to anything related to work, I might think that your ineptitude was faked. But perhaps you really are as incompetent as you seem."

To Severus's disappointment Potter did not rise to the insult and instead chose to glare at him in a rather immature way. What a pity, Severus so enjoyed deducting points from Gryffindor when Potter gave him cause. Well, there were other ways of provoking a response.

"_Legilimens!_" he cried, pointing his wand at Potter, who had no time to react before Severus saw memory after memory passing in front of his eyes. Fighting the Dark Lord in the graveyard, watching the Diggory boy get killed in front of him, watching that mutt Black, the boy's dogfather, flying away on that hippogriff. So Potter did have something to do with that, not that Severus had ever doubted that.

This was just another case of blatant rule-breaking, in this case even law-breaking that Potter never had been nor ever would be punished for. And this particular case had cost him, Severus, an Order of Merlin and the pleasure of seeing Black punished for all that he had done to him. No matter what anyone said about Black's innocence, he wasn't and never would be innocent, even if he wasn't the one who murdered those thirteen people fourteen years ago. He had proven that he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen.

Remembering that night transported Severus to an entirely new level of fury and he dug deeper into Potter's mind, seeing more memories flying pas.

Wait, what was that? How was this possible? If Severus hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would not have believed it. There was a corner in Potter's mind that wasn't illuminated by a single ray of light, but appeared utterly dark.

Severus had seen this before. It was an effective, if rather conspicuous way of hiding one's memories and one that was usually only used by wizards with at least basic knowledge of Occlumency, knowledge this boy clearly did not have.

There was only one other possibility and that was that Potter's subconsciousness was hiding a memory which he absolutely did not want his teacher to see, but that he himself was quite unaware of it…

But what in the name of Merlin could possibly be worse than seeing a fellow student die right in front of him and being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse?

Severus was intrigued and – dare he say it? – a little… anxious? No, it couldn't be, he was merely curious. What did he care about Harry Potter? Even in his mind the words sounded like a curse.

Still, he now focused all his considerable mental powers on this one dark corner in Potter's otherwise oh so bright and biddable mind. The shield was stronger than he had at first supposed and he was impressed in spite of himself, a feeling which he quenched as soon as he became aware of it.

But he could not deny that building such a shield required a lot of mental strength, whether the person in question was aware of the fact that certain memories were being protected this was or no. Maybe there was some truth in these rumours that Potter could withstand the Imperius Curse, after all. Until now, there had been no evidence of any extraordinary mental powers within the boy, but now…

But even a shield as strong as this could not remain intact for long and after several minutes of pain, mostly felt by Potter, but to a lesser degree also by Severus himself as his mind forced itself into the depths of the boy's, it finally gave and Severus was assaulted by an array of memories and recollections.

He could not make out a lot at first, but his general impression was that there was a lot of pink in all of them. He then realized that the sickening hue was due to the fact that all of these particular events seemed to have taken place in the office of that odious woman, Professor – if one could call her that – Umbridge.

She was one of the very few persons inside the castle and beyond whom Severus loathed more than the Potter boy, whose memories were playing out in front of him at this very moment.

Severus fought to keep hold of one of them, which was not easy at first because the whole lot of them were fairly flying past him. The sight that greeted him, when he had finally managed to grab hold of one, made him sick to his stomach.

He was watching Potter slice open his own hand with a blood quill. The boy's blood was running down his wrist to form a puddle on the now shining parchment, but not a sound escaped Potter's lips.

Severus didn't know what to make of that. On the one hand he would have expected the spoiled brat to have run straight out of the office to that of the headmaster to tell him about how that woman had hurt him. Severus didn't think even he would have blamed the boy for that. But then again, Potter's entirely misplaced Gryffindor pride probably prevented him from seeking out help from any adult, like it so often had in the past.

But – and far be it for Severus to show any sympathy for James Potter's spawn, but he was obviously in desperate need of help. As he watched more of these…memories, his thoughts were jumping around wildly. Why hadn't any of the teachers, whose duty it was to keep their students from harm, noticed what had been going on right under their noses the whole time? Had the boy's friends, Weasley and Granger, known about this and, if so, why hadn't they said anything?

One part of his mind just kept thinking, "I'm sorry, Lily. I've failed you. I swore to keep your son safe and I couldn't even protect him from his own teacher. I'm so sorry."

Soon, he couldn't bear it anymore. He withdrew from Potter's mind with enough force to send them both sprawling on the floor. For a moment, Severus lay there, stunned from the impact and let his gaze wonder over the jars of slimy creatures that "adorned" the walls of his office. For once, the atmosphere they created didn't appeal to him, but seemed oppressing. He felt trapped.

He was the first to recover and to get up from the floor, while Potter, weakened and trembling violently, continued to lie on the ground, unable to move. The Potions Master used this opportunity to reach down and grasp the boy's hand roughly. He stared at the words which were deeply engraved there.

"_I must not tell lies"_

He let go of it as abruptly as if he had been burnt. He was disgusted. Quite apart form the fact that of all of Potter's vices, lying was the least – on the contrary, his shameless honesty and insolence irked Severus far more than any school boy lie ever could – he knew what blood quills were meant to do. Originally, they were intended to be used only to sign magical contracts to make them binding. In the Middle Ages they were often used as punishment before they were outlawed by the Ministry of Magic, but even in those dark days, they were used only to inflict pain.

To leave scars such as these, they had to be used frequently for several hours at a time. Severus's startled eyes met Potter's. The small teenager looked like a deer caught in the wand light (How appropriate a comparison, given his father's animagus form, Severus thought sardonically). After a few seconds, Potter grabbed his wand, which had fallen a few feet to his right, leaped to his feet and ran from the office as fast as he could, leaving his professor staring at the empty doorway.

MQMQ

The next morning, a dark owl flew towards Harry, who, not for the first time that year, was sitting apart from his House mates at one end of the table. Attached to the bird's leg was a small parcel. Upon opening it, he discovered a rounded potions bottle with a familiar-looking liquid inside and a note.

He reached for the note first and nearly dropped it in surprise when he saw the handwriting. He usually saw it in on his Potions essays and not a word of it had ever been complimentary. Curious, he started to read it and as he did, he smiled softly. He looked up at the staff table, but the Potions Master was nowhere to be found, so he returned his gaze to the writing in front of him.

"Potter, I trust you are familiar with Murtlap Essence and are aware of its properties. This particular batch has been laced with Essence of Dittany, so as to have a healing, as well as a soothing effect. Use it sparingly."

'Maybe Snape isn't all bad, after all,' Harry thought.

A/N: Love it, hate it? Too long? I definitely know it's not too short… R&R, please!


	2. The Interview

**The Interview**

If Severus had been anyone else, he would have buried his face in his hands there and then, regardless of who was watching. But he wasn't anyone else and as such, he simply kept staring at the reason for his exasperation.

Lying in front of him was Minerva's edition of the _Quibbler_ – why she insisted on reading this rag was beyond him, but right now he was grateful she did because, looking up at him from the front page with his very familiar and thus very unnerving emerald eyes was none other than the Boy Who Lived To Make Severus Snape's Hell, Harry Bloody Potter.

Worse than the picture, however, was the headline beneath the picture:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:  
THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED

AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

Severus looked up at Minerva, who was watching his reaction with an altogether too familiar twinkle in her eyes.

"And here I thought the boy's sense of self-preservation already was at an inhuman low. What on earth could have made him do such a thing?" he asked, totally floored.

"Well," Minerva said, calmly sipping on her tea, "maybe he thought he could convince more people of You-Know-Who's return."

"With an interview in the _Quibbler_?" Severus voice showed very clearly what he thought of the idea. "It is unlikely many will believe what he had to say. The _Quibbler_ is not exactly known for its reliability when it comes to reporting solid fact, is it?"

"I know it may not convince many people, but he could hardly go to the Daily Prophet and ask them to publish this. They are deep in Fudge's pocket and wouldn't dare publish anything that could undermine his authority. Mark my words, when the Ministry's finally accepted that You-Know-Who has returned they'll do anything to get Xenophilius Lovegood to sell it to them."

"But that is precisely the reason why this was so foolish!" said Severus, ignoring his colleague's last remark. "This can only be interpreted as an attack on the Ministry and, worse, on the Minister himself. What do you think Umbridge will make of this?" he hissed impatiently, looking around to make sure That Woman couldn't hear them.

"She'll be furious, of course" Minerva shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yes, and who will she take it out on?" Severus' patience had reached and end. "Potter has already spent more time in detention this year than any other student and after this, he'll be looking at another weak of them at least."

"Well, I'm sure he considered this beforehand and he obviously thinks it's worth it."

"But is it?" Severus said so quietly Minerva couldn't hear. Apart from the students concerned in the matter, hardly anyone apart from Severus knew the exact nature of Umbridge's detentions. Why did Potter draw her attention to him this way, knowing that it would certainly mean slicing his own hand open for at least five hours each night all week?

"Someone certainly seems to have read the article," Minerva's dry voice came from beside the Potions Master.

Severus looked up to see Potter surrounded by flocks of owls and more of them still arriving. If the situation had been different, Severus would have been sorely tempted to laugh at the expression of shocked disbelief on Potter's face.

He looked over at the other side of the table where Umbridge was sitting, engrossed in some letter or report and not paying attention to anything else. By this time, nearly everyone's heads had turned towards the Gryffindor table. Potter and his friends were going through some of the letters now, while the others around them were trying to either read some of the letters over their shoulders or bending over the article Potter had received a few minutes earlier.

It had become considerably more quite in the hall. Severus looked over at Umbridge. She still hadn't noticed anything unusual going on. It looked like the Dark Lord's entire Inner Circle could barge through the doors without alerting her.

About five minutes later Umbridge folded up the piece of parchment with her short stubby fingers and looked up. Her eyes narrowed as they strayed through the hall and finally landed on the mess surrounding Potter.

Severus could not help seeing this as a metaphor for the current political status in Wizarding Britain; the Ministry was always the last to notice something was going on because the Minister was too focussed on protecting his image. He was discrediting Potter any way he could think of to make sure no one believed the boy. Unfortunately, the population went with the whole thing willingly and, although Severus could understand their actions to some degree – after all, who would_ want _to believe the Dark Lord was back? – he loathed the society that made this possible.

For now, Potter was "The Boy Who Lies". But when there was finally proof of the Dark Lord's return, he would be made out to be a tragic hero again, the poor shunned and wronged orphan.

And all the while the Dark Lord was raising and army, gathering his old followers and making new allies. Severus shuddered at the thought of what would happen, if the Ministry did not see reason soon.

He shook his head to clear it of these unpleasant thoughts. He – and everyone else - watched, as _Professor_ Umbridge walk down the Gryffindor table towards Potter. He saw her eyes bulging even further from her head than they usually did when she caught sight of the_ Quibbler_. Judging from the way she tried to make it look like she was perfectly in control of herself, though it was obvious to everyone that she was struggling not to either punch Potter in the face or run wailing out of the Great Hall, Severus' "prediction" had come true; Potter had received a lot of detentions for this act of recklessness and – as much as it pained him to admit it – courage.

As if her demeanour was not enough to convince him, the way Potter was rubbing the back of his hand, where Severus knew the, thankfully almost faded, words "I must not tell lies" were etched into his skin would have been proof enough

"There you are, Minerva," he said quietly. He couldn't bring himself to sneer the way he usually did when talking about his school nemesis' brat. "That's at least a week of detentions."

"But maybe it was worth it. This interview might help to convince some people and that's a start. And after all, he's only doing lines."

"Yes, Minerva, he's only doing lines." His voice showed so much contempt that Minerva looked at him, quite startled. "Excuse me," he said, before she could reply and rose from the table. He might as well make some more of the mixture of Murtlap Essence and Essence of Dittany he had given Potter last time. He was going to need it this week.

MQMQ

Several hours later, after another morning of trying to teach the subtle art of potion making to a class of nitwits and reducing a Hufflepuff girl to tears, Severus was walking through the halls in the direction of the Great Hall for lunch. His mind was once again focussed on the problems the toad's presence caused in the school.

She had managed what he and nearly everyone in the school – teachers and students alike – had thought almost impossible; she had toppled Severus from his hard-earned position as Most Hated Teacher Ever. He couldn't say he blamed the little brats, annoying as they were, for hating her and her classes. She was incompetent and cruel. And even thought most people in the castle didn't know about the latter character trait, the former was very well known and widely accepted as fact.

How could any teacher expect the students to pass their practical exams without ever having practised a single spell, curse, hex or charm? Especially in a subject like Defence Against the Dark Arts? Add to this her nerve-shattering voice and those pink clothes she insisted on wearing, clothes that made even Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown want to be Obliviated after having seen them, and you've got a mixture more poisonous than Basilisk venom.

While he was wondering whether his old teacher, Horace Slughorn, might have a small vial of said venom, which he could slip into her sickeningly sweet tea – accidentally, of course, - his attention was drawn to a swarm of students standing around the notice board and muttering amongst themselves.

At the sight of Severus advancing on them, robes billowing behind him, they parted hastily to avoid getting snarled at. Looking at the piece of parchment that had so fascinated the little brats, Severus couldn't suppress a derisive snort.

He turned on his heels and strode into the Great Hall. As soon as he had settled down, Minerva turned to him and smiled in that suspiciously Slytherin way he had seen on her often since Umbridge's arrival at the school.

"Have you seen the new _Educational Decree_?" she said in a way that left no doubts about her feelings in the matter.

Severus nodded. "Not very Slytherin, is it? Does that woman have no concept of subtlety?" he asked incredulously.

"Doesn't seem so, does it?" Minerva replied, looking quite pleased. "This time tomorrow at the latest, every single person in the school, teachers included, will have read the interview. It never ceases to amaze me, how little our _esteemed_ High Inquisitor understands the way teenaged minds work. And she's supposed to be a teacher." She shook her head.

"Well, this is good news for Potter and also Professor Dumbledore, though," came the squeaky voice of Filius Flitwick from Severus' other side. "She has just multiplied the readership of this month's edition of the _Quibbler_ by about ten."

"Yes, quite an achievement," Severus drawled.

"So Potter's idea wasn't all that bad, was it, Severus?" Minerva asked pointedly.

"If it was Potter's idea in the first place."

"Whatever do you mean?" piped Professor Flitwick.

"I mean that this has all the hall marks of Miss Granger's work. She's the only one in that bunch of dunderheads who has the organization skills to arrange a meeting with a reporter with no one else any the wiser."

He finished his meal in silence while his colleagues continued discussing the morning's events and afterwards rose and headed towards his classroom.

The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this scheme had been conceived by the admittedly quite brilliant, if rather narrow, mind of the Golden Trio's only female member. Perhaps he would have to give her the "Outstanding" she had, if was honest with himself, long since deserved. He had already heard about the more or less subtle rewards other teachers had given to Potter. But that would simply be crossing an invisible line and he had no intention of crossing this particular line.

As to these detentions the toad was giving Potter… Well, Severus would have to think of something because, no matter what he thought of James Potter's spawn, no one deserved to have their hand sliced open with a blood quill and he certainly did not want Potter to have the words "I must not tell lies" carved into his hand for the rest of his natural existence, especially because the boy couldn't lie to save his life.

And even if he was not doing it for Potter himself, he would do it for Lily's sake. He had already failed her son in the worst possible way.

No, something would have to be done.

But for now, all Severus could do was to ensure that the scarring on Potter's hand did not become too severe. Next week, though…

Severus allowed a smirk to cross his face, which made all the students who passed him on his way to his dungeons to give him a wide berth.

A/N: I'm really sorry for not updating so long! I was ill for the first time in three years and of course it had to happen during the holidays…

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and if you've got time, drop a little review…?


	3. Potion Punishment

A/N: Well, here you are, I'm back again! First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed and I'm really glad I could put up this chapter before my schedule got tight again because of school.

And a very special thank you to JulieSnape02 for helping me to come up with nice devices of torture for our dear professor… On with the show!

**Potion Punishment**

The week passed without anymore scandals or significant events, except maybe Potter's remarkable discovery that he was, in fact, a wizard and was thus capable of defending himself from mental attacks through use of a shield charm, until his feeble mind got used to the idea of fending for itself. Severus had expected him to try that long before now, so it didn't really come as a surprise when his attack was repelled. What _had _taken him by surprise, though, was what had followed.

Instead of finding himself in Potter's memories, as he usually did, the boy had suddenly penetrated Severus' own mind, specifically the teacher's memories of his younger years. At that moment, Severus was extremely glad that he had deposited his worst memories and all the happy ones of time spent with Lily before he had made one of his three great mistakes in the headmaster's Pensieve.

One had made a great rift between them, the second one had widened it almost impossibly and the third had cost Lily her life and what had remained of Severus' peace of mind.

This was his punishment; acting as a spy for the Order and trying to make sure that James Potter's son did not kill himself with one of his mad Gryffindor schemes. Teaching him Occlumency, however, was the most exquisite torture. Watching the boy's miserable childhood, which so resembled Severus's own, play out in front of him, forced him to re-evaluate his opinion of him. And that was something Severus was absolutely not prepared to do. He was protecting Potter for his childhood friend, not because he _cared _for the brat _himself_.

Severus gave an involuntary shudder as that highly distasteful thought crossed his mind. No, that was certainly never going to happen, _especially _if Potter continued to ignore his teacher's instructions _to clear his mind before going to sleep_.

Although Potter had succeeded in entering Severus' mind, they had still spent enough time in the insufferable boy's thoughts and memories for Severus to catch a glimpse of some rather worrying dreams of Potter's.

So Dumbledore was concerned that the Dark Lord would try and use the boy, taking advantage of the connection that had somehow been forged between them the night the Dark Lord had first tried to kill Potter.

Well, if Potter's vision of Arthur Weasley's being attacked by the Dark Lord's snake – from the snake's point of view, no less – hadn't been proof enough that Severus' "_Master_" was already deep inside Potter's mind, then these continuing dreams of the empty corridor inside the Department of Mysteries would certainly have been enough.

The rest of the week was spent in the usual manner and Severus was very glad when the bell rang to announce the end of Friday's lessons, even if the last class had been his four remaining NEWT students from seventh year.

For Potter, he knew, the weekend was still a long way away – i.e. a detention in the pinkest and deepest part of hell.

Which swung Severus' thoughts away from the disastrous Occlumency lessons and in a much more welcome direction. His lips parted in a feral grin as he thought of the research he had been doing in his spare time.

Oh, that woman was going to pay and in such a way that she would not only have to change her ways, but which would put her in such a delicate and embarrassing situation that she would never dare to admit it to anyone else at the Ministry, including her precious Minister. His preparations were nearly finished, so he would be ready when he and everyone else – he was feeling particularly generous – would be able to glean the most pleasure out of the toad's humiliation.

But first, it was time for some more harmless amusement. With a rather simple, but amazingly effective potion and one of the school house-elves' help, Severus was planning to make breakfast an… interesting affair.

He was going to make sure that he would have the best possible vantage point possible, so as to really be able to enjoy it.

MQMQ

The first thing every student who bothered to look up at the Head Table the next morning saw, was the fact that Hogwarts' – by now – second most infamous teacher, Severus Snape, seemed to be in a very good mood. That in itself was very disturbing.

Even more disturbing, however, was that he managed to retain his almost cheerful disposition, in spite of having been the last teacher at the table – which was a novelty in its own right – and was thus forced to occupy the seat that every teacher, including him, usually avoided at all costs. Yes, indeed. Professor Umbridge was no more popular with her colleagues than she was with the students. But Snape seemed quite happy with the seating arrangements that morning.

Harry Potter was staring at the Potions Master in bewilderment.

"I don't understand," he said to his best friends, Ron and Hermione. "He seemed really angry about her detentions before. He even sent me that salve to help me get rid of the scars. What's he playing at now?"

"Well, you know Snape," Ron tried to say through a mouthful of bacon. What came out sounded more like "'Ell, 'ou 'ow Shna'", however, which caused Hermione to look at him in utmost disgust.

"Honestly, Ronald, if I didn't know your mother and your oldest brothers, I'd think you were never taught any table manners at home."

Ron swallowed his bacon and retorted in a very annoyed voice.

"Oh, leave me alone, Hermione. You're not my mother!"

"No, but I have to watch you eat! And anyway -"

Recognizing this as the beginning of one of his best friends' infamous arguments, Harry tuned them out and turned back to his food.

He couldn't help the stab of disappointment and even a sense of betrayal as he thought about Snape's behaviour. Sure, he and Snape had never been on friendly terms – far from it, in fact – but he had thought that, at least as far as Umbridge was concerned, they had come to an understanding of sorts. Now, however, it seemed as though Snape had had second thoughts about it.

Before Harry could sink any further into his depressing thoughts, a loud "_CROAK_ "filled the hall. Necks were craned as everyone tried to figure out who was responsible and just seconds later, an eerie silence fell, as all conversations stopped at once. Even Ron and Hermione had abandoned their little argument.

The very nature of the sound had been such that everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to Umbridge. To tell the truth, most students, and some teachers, had long expected her to make such a sound.

The _High Inquisitor_ was the only person in the hall who hadn't stopped eating. Just like the week before, she only noticed that something unusual was going on when the silence became so all-consuming that the only sound was that of everyone's _beloved_ and _highly_ esteemed Defence teacher's cutlery against her plate.

When she had finally noticed that something was out of the ordinary, she looked up to find every single person in the hall staring at her.

Umbridge opened her wide mouth – probably to tell them to return to their meals, though possibly not as politely – but again, the only sound that came from her moth was the "_CROAK_" everyone had heard before.

"Are you quite all right, Professor?" Dumbledore asked in a way that might have seemed concerned, if the omnipresent twinkle in his eyes hadn't just developed into a very blue, very bright and very small firework.

Almost every other teacher and the students were desperately trying to suppress their giggles. Those that weren't, like the Weasley twins, had long since given up the fight and were practically rolling on the floor with undisguised glee.

Umbridge slowly turned a rather interesting shade of puce, which reminded Harry vaguely of Uncle Vernon and a similar vein to his uncle's seemed to be pulsing in Umbridge's temple as she tried to make herself understood. She obviously had no idea that she wasn't talking normally, or what she usually thought of as normal.

But each attempt she made at speaking ended the same way the first had and resulted in more students falling of their benches with her looking on with confusion and fury.

Harry relished the spectacle and savoured the fact that Umbridge seemed to have no idea that she was giving everyone proof of what they had suspected since their first class with her; that she would have been much better off as a toad.

Harry was so busy laughing that he almost missed the hungry gleam in Snape's eyes as he looked at his unfortunate colleague. It was almost as though he was waiting for something else to happen-. A great wave of relief washed over Harry as he realized that Snape had not forsaken him and the other students in their fight against Umbridge.

With that invisible, but surprisingly heavy burden lifted off his shoulders, Harry devoted his entire attention to his least favourite professor's dilemma. He would have been quire content to see this continue the whole day, but he knew enough about potions and spells to realize that the effect was going to wear off sooner of later.

But he didn't expect what happened next.

By now Umbridge had worked herself up in a right state and just as everyone thought she was going to have stroke or something equally… _unfortunate_, she started choking, her face turning from bright red to bright green at a rather alarming speed.

Something seemed to force its way up her throat and the next moment, a _real_ toad had made its way out of its human counterpart's mouth, in a way that reminded Harry strongly of Ron's attempt at hexing Malfoy in their second year, which had ended with him vomiting slugs.

Everyone – with the rather obvious exception of Minister Fudge's residential incompetent minion - later agreed that this had been the best morning Hogwarts had seen in a long time.

Few, however, thought to connect the happy incident to Snape, although it was obvious to any who cared to look that he was just as pleased as the students and Umbridge's personal enemy, Minerva McGonagall, who was seen wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, an event previously unheard of in the school's history.

But even those, such as Harry, Ron and Hermione, who had guessed his involvement didn't know that the Potions Master had another trick up his sleeve, one that would make the hell toad's life even more difficult. He only had to wait for the right moment…


	4. Tables Turned

**Tables Turned**

During the next few weeks, life at Hogwarts took a decided down-turn. The general atmosphere, which had been tense before, had become steadily worse since Umbridge as "Hogwarts High Inquisitor" had taken it upon herself to decide who could stay and who would go.

Her first victim had, of course, been Professor Trelawney, whom Severus had never liked, but given the choice between her and the Toad…

And her replacement, who had thankfully been found by Dumbledore instead of by the Ministry, was having a rather disturbing effect on the female population of Hogwarts. It seemed that every Gryffindor girl in third year and above had an immense crush on him. The only exception to the rule was Miss Granger, whom Severus could never quite bring himself to hate as entirely as he did Weasley and Potter, even though she was an insufferable know-it-all.

At least he would have said that a few months ago. Now he wasn't so sure and it wasn't a growing dislike for the girl that made him uncertain in his convictions.

No, it was a grudging respect for Potter which had started when he saw the manner in which the boy reacted to the Toad's detentions.

Not that he would ever breathe a word of this to anyone.

Anyway, he was certain that these _emotions _wouldn't last long. He just knew that Potter would do something which would make Severus loathe him as much as he had before he had had to look into Potter's memories. The words "decent" and "Potter" just didn't go well together.

For now, however, everything was going down-hill at the school, so everyone had a common enemy.

In that respect, Severus was just like anyone else. He was still waiting for the opportunity to put his plan into action. And it had come, but not in the way he had expected and certainly not the way he had hoped.

Apparently a group of foolish students had been fighting back more intensely than anyone had thought. And, of course, Potter was right in the thick of it… as usual.

And from what Severus had heard the whole thing was rather organized, too. Just as with the interview, Severus was sure he recognized Miss Granger's handiwork. If the rumours were true, she really knew how to put her Hogsmeade weekends to good use.

More than that, according to Minerva and the students themselves, Potter, of all people, was actually a decent teacher.

Ah. There it was again. That dreaded combination of words. Severus was really going to have to be more careful to keep his thoughts in check, this was getting ridiculous.

But still, it seemed that the boy had managed to teach the Patronus Charm, a spell he shouldn't even know himself, to his fellow students. And for all his misgivings about the brat, Severus had to admit that these lessons might the only thing that might enable the students not only to pass their exams, but also to survive in the coming war against the Dark Lord, the war which the Ministry still insisted on ignoring, or rather denying.

Well, they would soon come to their senses, even though Severus feared that by the time the Minister admitted his gigantic mistake it would already be too late. That buffoon would not acknowledge the evidence of the Dark Lord's return until said Dark Lord made a move and that was not going to happen until he himself was ready.

For now, the Minister and his cronies, including the one currently holding sway over Hogwarts, were giving him time and space enough to raise an army which even the combined forces of the Ministry and of the Order of the Phoenix would be hard-put to match.

The most frustrating thing about the whole business was that neither he, nor indeed Professor Dumbledore, could do anything to stop everything from growing worse, especially now that the headmaster had had to leave his school in order to protect Potter. Severus wanted to hate the boy for this, but when it came down to it, even he couldn't deny the fact that "Dumbledore's Army", as they called it, hadn't been a bad idea. In fact, it might save many lives in the future…

But for now, Umbridge had declared herself headmistress and, despite the best efforts of Peeves, the Weasley twins and even Minerva, she reigned supreme. With one exception. Severus thought that words would never be able to describe the pleasure he took in seeing the castle denying That Woman entrance to the headmaster's office. Hogwarts only accepted a new headmaster or headmistress when their predecessor either died or left willingly. Since neither eventuality had taken place, Dumbledore was still the rightful headmaster.

And, ultimately, the master of a magical castle was still the castle itself.

The smirk which had formed on Severus' face, as he had contemplated Umbridge's futile efforts to get inside the office vanished when his mind focused on the other consequences this affair had had on life within the school.

Of course, Umbridge, sadist that she was, had put every single student who had been part of "Dumbledore's Army" in her special kind of detention, with the sole exception of the "sneak", as Marietta Edgecombe was now officially labelled.

Twenty-five students would carve their hands open for a good five hours of each day this week. The sheer number of students had forced Umbridge to move the detentions from the pink discomfort of her office to the Great Hall.

The first of these unsavoury events would take place that evening and Severus was prepared. He might not be everyone's – or even _any_one's – favourite teacher, but he still had a duty to these children, even though none of them were Slytherins.

But Slytherins were exactly the kind of person you needed for a job like this, so the other Heads of Houses just wouldn't do. (Even though the Head of Gryffindor itself, Minerva McGonagall had certain devilish tendencies herself…)

Severus also had more than theoretical knowledge of the Dark Arts and was not afraid to respond to this hag's attack on the students under his care because, even if they sometimes annoyed the living daylights out of him and made him want to strangle them, he wasn't about to let anybody else hurt them.

Moreover, from whom would he deduct points, if all the more rebellious Gryffindors were too scared or traumatized to commit any transgressions?

At that moment, Severus was assailed by sudden visions of his students slicing their own hands open under the supervision of Fudge's Toad and he in the sudden onslaught of anger he had to stop his own hand from smashing into the wall. Oh, but she was going to pay for that…

The punishment was going to start tonight and the tables would be turned.

MQMQ

Harry sighed inwardly. He hadn't thought that life at Hogwarts could get any worse than it already had been, but he had been sorely mistaken. Now that Dumbledore was gone – _"because of me" _– and Umbridge had taken over as headmistress, the situation had become a whole lot worse. The teachers had discovered what had been happening during Umbridge's detentions and, as Harry had predicted, they couldn't do a thing about it.

Umbridge, on the other hand, had free reign and she was making use of it.

The entire DA – well, except Marietta, but she didn't really count anymore – was sitting in the Great Hall, waiting for Umbridge to distribute the quills, but she seemed content enough to finish her third cup of sickeningly sweet - and pink – tea.

Suddenly, the doors to the Hall swung open and in strode Professor Snape in his usual way, with his robes billowing behind him and giving off the impression of the overgrown bat everyone took him for. A strange feeling of hope overcame Harry. Maybe everyone else wouldn't have to slice their hands open because of his stupidity after all.

"Excuse me, Headmistress," Snape said and Harry had to admit that he managed to conceal his customary sneer quite well, "There hare a few papers I would like to have signed. It seems to me that you, unlike _Dumbledore_," his sneer became more pronounced and Harry's respect for Severus Snape the actor grew, "are willing to have the…_students_" – a distasteful glance in their direction – "punished in a way that is suited to the gravity of their misconduct. I have therefore devised some more means of punishment that I would like you to approve, since you obviously understand the importance their education has for the security of the Ministry."

As great an actor as Snape was, he couldn't quite suppress his sneer this time, but fortunately Umbridge was too busy reading through the documents he had handed to her to notice his slip.

"Mmh. These are very…creative, Severus," she said at length. "And they are sure to be very effective, too." Everyone winced at the malicious undertone in her voice. She took out a quill and Snape stepped behind her and indicated the various places on the sheets of parchment where he wanted her to sign.

But Harry had a strange sense of déjà vu. The way Snape's lips had started to move behind the Toad's back reminded him of the way Ron and Hermione had described his actions during Harry's first ever Quidditch match when they had thought he was trying to curse Harry's broom. Now that Harry looked more closely, he saw that Snape's left arm was positioned at an awkward angle, almost as though he was pointing his wand and now that Harry looked more closely, he saw that Snape's left arm was positioned at an awkward angle, almost as though he was pointing his wand at Umbridge.

Was he actually doing what Harry _thought_ he was doing? Was he actually cursing Umbridge? Harry's eyes were saying "yes", but his previous experiences with the potions Master were saying "no".

Or were they? After all, there had been real anger in Snape's eyes when he had seen Harry's scars and he had slipped her that potion. But this looked like he was really going to put a serious curse on her. Before all this had happened, Harry had never thought Snape would go to such lengths as he already had in order to protect his students, but now he just didn't know what to think.

His mind in a whirl of confusion, Harry watched as both professors finished their respective activities at almost exactly the same moment.

He let out a breath of disappointment when he saw that Snape's curse - if it had been one in the first place - had had no obvious effect on Umbridge. Snape gathered the documents and left the Hall with his obligatory look of loathing in Harry's direction.

Resigned to yet another few hours of carving by now meaningless words into his own hand, Harry turned back to Umbridge, who had apparently decided that she had had enough tea for the moment and had turned to the task of magically distributing the dreaded quills. Everyone knew about them, even though only a handful of students, amongst them the Weasley twins' fellow prankster Lee Jordan and, of course, Harry, had been forced to use one before.

Once everyone had received a quill and most students were either staring at them in fearful apprehension or openly crying, Umbridge opened her wide mouth once more.

"Hem, hem. Mr Potter and Mr Jordan, I believe you know your sentences, even though they have obviously not sunk in yet." A sickly chuckle forced its way past her lips. "As for the rest of you, I would like you to write 'I must not disobey the rules'."

Having heard this announcement, Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione. How would she, Hogwarts' model student, cope with having that sentence etched into her skin? Refusing to let his feelings of guilt overwhelm him, Harry turned his eyes to his own parchment and began writing, resolved, as always, not to let any signs of weakness appear on his face.

Others were less determined and so the next few minutes passed with many gasps of pain penetrating the stuffy silence in the Hall and turning into whimpers, until…

"Stop!"

Everyone looked up, startled. The voice was definitely Umbridge's but the tone was nothing like anything they had ever heard from her. It was a mixture between a whimper and a full-blown sob. Harry saw her clutching her hand in agony.

As he was sitting in the first row – apparently she had wanted to keep an eye on him – he had a very good view and saw blood leaking from between her fingers, just as it did from his own hand. When the detested teacher loosened her grip on her right hand, Harry narrowed his eyes in order to get a closer look.

What he saw shocked him, even though, knowing Snape, he knew it shouldn't. Arranged in a very orderly manner on the back of Umbridge's hand were three lines of writing, which he could just make out from the angle at which he was sitting.

One of them was in Harry's own handwriting and mirrored the one on his own hand exactly, the next one was in writing which Harry identified as Lee's, saying 'I must not disrespect my elders' and the last line spelled out the newly-assigned phrase 'I must not disobey the rules'.

A grin formed on Harry's face as he took in the scene. So Snape _had _stood up for his students once more. The only question was what triggered the curse?

In order to test a theory, Harry brought quill to parchment once more and, ignoring the pain which stung the back of his own hand, wrote those five hated words.

'I must not tell lies.'

His theory was proven to be correct when more blood leaked out of the first wound and Umbridge let out a sob of pain. By then others had caught on and were doing the same thing, resulting in an ear-splitting yell from Umbridge.

"Stop! Stop it right now!"

Somehow Harry couldn't quite bring himself to feel sorry for her and apparently neither could his fellow students. They were not to be deterred and after a few more futile attempts at making them stop, Umbridge took to her heels and ran out of the Hall as fast as she could.

"Cornelius will hear about this!" they heard her shriek, but that remark did nothing to remove the grin from Harry's face. If anything, his smile broadened. He knew that she wouldn't go to Fudge and, even if she did, there would be nothing he could do without putting his own career, let alone that of his Senior Undersecretary on the line. Exposing Umbridge's regular use of Blood Quills on students would cause a scandal if ever there was one.

Even Fudge wasn't stupid enough to ignore that fact. No, the truth was that very little would change. Umbridge would stay in charge of Hogwarts for the time being, since she still had the Ministry's support, and the public would continue to their belief that Harry was lying about Voldemort's return.

But, even though Harry was certain that the curse would soon be lifted and that her scars would vanish with it, he was also sure that Umbridge would think twice before torturing the students of Hogwarts again.

MQMQ

Behind a pillar in the Entrance Hall, from which he had watched Umbridge's flight from the students she herself had put in detention, Severus Snape was thinking the same thing and planning ways of making her pay, if she did try and hurt anyone at Hogwarts again. For now he would simply make certain that every one concerned in this affair knew how to brew the mixture of Murtlap Essence and Essence of Dittany which he had sent to Potter when he had first found out about the extent of the Ministry Toad's madness.

But he found that, no matter how hard he tried, he could never go back to hating Potter in peace because every time he tried, an image of Potter's defiant green eyes, so like Lily's, both in colour and in expression, appeared before him.

A/N: Well, that's it! First of all, I'm sorry for the long wait. Exams have been destroying my hand lately, so I couldn't type for a while But now it's done, so I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed and generally followed my story and I would very much like to know what you thought!


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